back save

Nifty - Gay - Authoritarian - Top Man

Date: Sat, 16 Nov 2002 07:32:01 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <>
Subject: Top Man


by Pete Brown. petebrownuk @
Read all of Pete's stories in

You may have seen me if you like dancing. It's one of
the things I do well, and I like the excitement of the
pulsing beat and the sweaty bodies of the other men
around me. Mind you, you have to go to one of the
special clubs, one of those where only proper men are
admitted - no mincing little queens just there to eye
up the real men - and where the dress code is
strictly jocks and boots only on the dance floor.

You'll remember me if you have seen me. Even in a
crowd of defined, fit guys I stand out - at 6'4" I'm
taller than most of them, and my muscles are hard and
lean from my labouring job: some guys are just gross,
where they've spent too long in the gym on weights
machines, but I don't do that. I don't need to - I
work bloody hard on the construction site, doing all
the "grunt" work the machines can't, and that keeps me
fit enough and gives me the muscular development most
other men would kill for.

I don't go for the shaved head look. My thick black
hair is down to a quarter of an inch all over, with
the sides and back sharply razored, except for the
middle two inches which I keep at three quarters of an
inch so that it looks a bit like a Roman soldier's
helmet plume. I like to look distinctive like this,
even when I've got clothes on. My name, I'm Mark, by
the way, is tattooed on the side of my neck so you can
see it even when I've got a formal shirt on. And in a
polo shirt you'll also see the two bands tattooed
around my biceps - I like the way it emphasises them
as I move my arms, and I always notice other men
looking at the designs - the barbed wire effect gives
them a clue to my nature, I hope.

Most people probably pick up first on my nose ring,
though - It's solid silver, and it's not one of those
silly little things some queers wear through the side
of the nostril - it's big and solid, about an inch and
a half in diameter, and is punched right through my
septum to hang down over my upper lip. Some geezer
had the temerity to ask me to rim him a few weeks ago
- silly fucker: couldn't he see that with something
like that in my nose I was hardly going to stick it up
his ass. Couldn't he guess that a man who wears a
ring like that is not that sort of guy? I had to slap
him around a bit to give him the idea that I wasn't
there to do stuff that he wanted - he was there solely
to pleasure me, and that means having his ass fucked
long and hard. I'm what you might call an aggressive
top: I know what I want, I have a big cock, and I
know how to use it. I don't put up with any time
wasters or any negotiation - if you and me are
together and I've fixed to have sex with you, then you
will. You'll do exactly as I say to give me my
satisfaction, or else I'll get nasty - and I can get
very nasty, and you wouldn't want to put yourself up
against my 250 lbs of packed muscle as you'll lose

Once I'm on the dance floor, though, I tone it down a
bit. I can lose myself very quickly if the rhythm's
right, and I don't really care what the blokes round
me are doing - I like to do my own thing and really
work at it so that the sweat pours off me and soaks my

If I didn't do anything about it I'd have a really
big, dense thatch of my wiry black hair all over my
chest, so I keep it trimmed short - I shave it down to
about half an inch regularly so that you can see my
muscles move properly. It enhances the nipple rings,
of course, as you can see them better against my big,
dark aureoles when I keep my chest fur short. I've
got no time for those silly little nipple bars and
open rings you see around, often in only one tit. My
rings are proper men's ones, big, heavy, and soldered
closed permanently. As I dance, they bounce up and
down to my body's beat, and I'm aware of my nipples -
you know how it is: without a proper ring in your nips
just sit there until another guy starts to torture
them. But with good heavy rings you always know
they're there, as you get little bursts of sensation
every time you move.

I shave off the treasure trail of hair that would go
on down around my navel to my pubes, as I want to
display my six-pack properly and you can't do that
when it's covered in hair. I leave the tuft that
grows at the base of my spine, though, at the top of
my ass crack - I find that's a sexy turn-on when I
look at another guy, and I don't mind giving that
little pleasure to the men who are always eyeing me.
I don't shave my arms or legs, of course - I think a
good covering of hair there is manly, and one of the
minor pleasures of being in bed with another guy is
feeling the sensation of hairy arms and legs sliding
over each other - that's one of the differences I
notice from when I used to fuck women, who either are
hairless, or who shave themselves.

Anyway, as usual on a Friday night, here I am, dancing
away. I've had a couple of pints, but no more - the
music and the dancing is enough to get me worked up,
and I don't like the loss of control that too much
drink brings. I like to be in control. I like to
feel all the sensations happening to me. I like to
change what's going on if it's not right for me. So I
really only drink enough just to get me started, and
to fill my bladder with piss - that's another little
pleasure of mine: continuing to work, or dance, or
fuck, or whatever when my bladder's saying it wants to
relieve itself. It just adds that extra sensation.
And of course if the guy I'm fucking is really
misbehaving, or not properly appreciative, I'll just
let it out anyway all over him - it's really funny to
see them react as my hot piss suddenly streams over
them. Some of them start to shout and scream, and I
have to give them a slap to shut them up, but some
just burst into tears - and these are big, grown,
virile men, too.

I go to the bar for another pint after about two
hours, and there's the usual crowd of watchers
standing there cluttering up the place. I don't wait
in lines or queues, so I just push them aside to get
to the bar - none of them dares say anything, of
course, as I look pretty fierce to those who don't
know me, and I've got a certain reputation for dealing
with people who piss me off with the regular crowd.

The barman serves me straight away, of course, as he
doesn't want trouble. I'm standing there about to
take a big swig when I feel a hand on my naked ass!
"Nice tat there", a voice says. Oh, I didn't tell
you, did I, that as well as the bands around my biceps
and my name on my neck, I have the words "Don't even
try to fuck me" on my left ass, and on my hipbone,
just above my cock, I have "Fuck tool". Last time I
went to the public swimming bath the attendant tried
to tell me to wear big swimming shorts to cover these
up, as "they were causing offence" as they were
visible outside the tiny Speedo I wear - he really
needed sorting out, and I had to be quite aggressive
to make him shut his whining.

Anyway, I'm not used to being felt up. It's me who
picks out the guy I'm going with that night, and me
who makes the first advance and makes the running. I
start to turn around, and I think I'm going to smash
the guy in the face, to keep up my reputation and
remind all the other guys who hang around in this club
who's in charge. But something stops me - I don't
know what - perhaps it was his tone of voice. Usually
men who dare to speak to me are a bit timid, or
hesitant, but this guy sounded supremely
self-confident, as if he'd always been in charge all
his life. So I turned around slowly to see what was
what. I guessed he was around my age - 28. He was
only about 5'10 or 5'11, but nicely proportioned -
broad chest, narrow waist, no fat anywhere, and in a
jock and brown leather work boots, like me. At least
he wasn't one of those guys who are ashamed to strip
off in a club to show you what they've got. I hadn't
yet picked out the ass I was going to fuck that night,
so this one would do, I thought to myself.

"So you like tattoos?"

"Yes, but not on me. I think they add something to a
certain type of bloke. You got any more.... Mark?".
As he had been speaking, he'd looked at my neck and
read my name.

"Yes. And it is Mark." I pushed down the top of my
jock so he could see the words "Fuck Tool" - that's
the only problem with jockstraps, they are too big,
and cover you up too much. I'd thought of wearing a
black leather pouch, but when I tried one on I didn't
like the way the string up my ass crack rubbed at my

"So, you think it's worth drawing attention to your
tool, do you?". He was almost arrogant in his self
confidence, so I thought I'd shut him up. I pushed my
jock down to my knees, and flipped my cock to shake it
lose from my big, low- hanging balls where the jock
had confined it. The crowd around us at the bar had
gone almost totally silent, and were enjoying this
unexpected display. I didn't care, of course. When
you've got a body like mine, and are hung like me, you
don't mind showing it to anyone, at any time. I
personally like the feel of shaved balls, as they're
so much nicer when you cup them in your hands, and so
I'm smooth there: a guy can't fuck another guy every
night of the week, so I do need to wank myself most of
the time, and I like to fondle my balls as I'm doing
it. I've also shaved most of my pubic hair off, as I
like the way that just a tiny bar of hair above the
cock emphasises it - when I had my big thick forest of
hair there, even my oversize cock looked relatively
small. My cock ring's a permanent feature, too: I
don't like those leather things with press studs to
close them, or those rubber rings you have to tease
your tackle through, so when I was having my big
nipple rings permanently installed I had a good solid
band soldered on permanently around me tackle, too. I
don't really need it to emphasise my shape, but I do
like the way it pushes me forward just that bit more
- I'm erect more often, I think, as my cock's always
being made to rub against my Jeans.

Without hesitation the guy reached forward and took my
cock in his hand. He sort of weighed it, rolling it
around in his palm. He casually pushed my foreskin
back with his thumb, and used his first finger to
stroke across my moist cock head and piss slit. I had
to stop myself from jerking back, almost involuntarily
- you know how sensitive your cock head can be when it
pops out for the first time in a night.

It's not that I mind having my cock handled - I quite
like making the men I'm going to fuck worship it a bit
first, and I usually get them to stroke it, then suck
it, before we get on to the serious business of
fucking. But it was the assumtive way that he had of
believing that it was all right to handle me like this
that I objected to This arrogant fuck needed to be
taught a lesson, I was beginning to think.

"Yes, you'll do. My place or yours?"

I've told you I'm an aggressive top, and I'm used to
making the running. I usually select a guy I like the
look of, then hit on him. Most of them don't refuse,
as they're excited by my body, and they have some
feeble attempt at negotiation.... You know.... "What
do you like doing, then?", as if it wasn't obvious
that I liked fucking! Over half of them seem to have
some strange idea that they can somehow "tame" me in
bed, and they want to start kissing and fondling me,
and even to try to get me to take their cocks up me.
Fat chance - the only thing I'm interested in is
getting up their holes as quickly as I can, and
shagging them hard. They're the ones who are
surprised when I leave them sore and panting, pumped
full of my juices.

So this was very strange. I decided to play along -
I'd let this guy, who was obviously also a top, pick
me up, and I'd play along with him. He was going to
get such a surprise when we were finally naked and he
found out the only thing I wanted to do!

"Uh.... As you like. My place is a bit of a mess at
the moment...". Actually, it isn't. I can't bear
mess and clutter. I hardly own anything - just a few
Ts, a couple of pairs of Jeans, a couple pairs of
boots, a few pairs of socks, and donkey jacket for the
Winter. I don't have a car, stereo, TV, or any of
that consumer crap - I like to live a simple life,
working hard and playing hard, and the rest of the
time just sleeping. I don't own my place, of course -
it's too tying. I rent a room and a bathroom on the
top floor of a house owned by a couple of gay guys -
well, rent isn't really the word, as I don't pay them
anything. I'd met one half of the couple when his
partner was away on a business trip, and after I'd
fucked him he asked me where I was living. At that
time I really was renting, paying a lot of money
(this is London, remember!) for a really seedy place
miles out in the burbs. He took me upstairs and
showed me the room I now have - really big, spacious
and airy, all white, and with a new double bed. And
the bathroom had a really big bath, and a power

He asked me if I wanted to rent it, and I told him I
didn't think I could afford it as I was just a
labourer, and he told me I could live there rent-free!
He and his BF had been having a bit of trouble with
the neighbours - a load of arrogant blacks were
jeering at them in the street, it seems, and they
wanted a sort of bodyguard. Well, from the moment I
moved in I soon sorted out the blacks - when there
was a crowd of them hanging around in the street one
day after I'd moved in, I went out with one of my
landlords and snogged him long and hard on the front
step (I don't usually do kissing, but there's nothing
wrong in it, after all). When the blacks started to
jeer, I picked out the ring leader and slapped and
punched him a few times - he was a big, arrogant guy
who thought he knew what he was doing, but he wasn't
used to dealing with a tough like me. There's been no
more trouble since then, of course, and we still all
three live in the same house. The whole area has
"moved up", and there aren't any blacks around now,
but I've just stayed on.

The guys are still pleased to have me there, as I
don't mind them having a look at me from time to time
- they'll hear me running the shower, then
"innocently" walk up the stairs to ask me something.
I don't bother to shut the bathroom door, and I don't
mind them looking. And if I'm there alone on
Saturdays and Sundays, they'll bring me a cup of tea
up so they can feast their eyes at my naked body
lolling on the bed, barely covered by the sheet.

Actually I've used them once or twice, too. They
wanted me to be a man sandwich, but there's no way I'd
do that - I don't let men up my ass. But if I've got
no better prospects, I'll sometimes fuck both of them.
One's a top and the other's a bottom normally and
actually I envy them a bit as they have a really good
relationship. When I get into their bed, though,
they're both happy to have me up them as it's a bit of
a treat for them to have a hard body like mine under
their hands.

Well, as I say, the place wasn't in a mess, but it
sounded the sort of reason he'd think plausible, and I
wanted to see his place. I always like to see where
the other guy lives, especially if I'm expecting it to
be a rough time.

"My place, then", he said. "Let's get our things."

We went into the changing room and got our outdoor
stuff from the lockers. I of course stripped off my
jock before pulling my Jeans on, as I always do. I
can't bear underwear, and don't see the point. His
eyes were watching me as I did this, and I just looked
back at him. He left his jock on, though, and pulled
expensive looking grey slacks on. He had to change
his boots, too, into black loafers, and fiddled around
whilst he fastened a semi-formal shirt, retrieved a
jacket and a topcoat. I didn't bother with any of
this - I just pulled my donkey jacket on, and felt the
rough fibres scratching at my naked body - what's the
point of dressing up, when all you're going to do is
take it off again? It was so much easier just to
stuff my jock into my jacket pocket, and I was ready.

"I'm Jon, by the way", he said conversationally as he
was dressing. As if I cared.

"So, Mark, what do you like doing?" What a wanker!
Fancy waiting until now to find out what the other guy
likes. I felt like saying that all I liked doing was
fucking hunky young guys like him, hard.

But instead, as I thought it would make the surprise a
bit more intense for him, I muttered as if embarrassed
"Well, you know, most things...."

"So kissing, stroking, wanking, sucking,

"Yes... " I did, of course, like all of this. I'm
not wild to have another guy's tongue down my throat,
but I like it when they worship my body by caressing
and stroking it, and I've told you I don't mind a hand
and a mouth around my cock as a bit of preliminary
warm-up to the main business. But I wasn't going to
do those things to him!

"We should have a great time, then". Well, I would,
at least.

"Come on, then, let's find a cab."

Hey... Look... Cabs are expensive after eight
o'clock... I'm not sure..."

"It's on me. I want to get that gorgeous body of
yours in my bed as soon as I can, before you change
your mind!" Changing my mind was the last thing I
was going to do - he was just the sort I liked - good
body, and arrogant, just waiting to be fucked
senseless by me.

In the cab I let him open my donkey jacket, and he was
soon running his hands all over my upper half, paying
particular attention to my nipple rings.

"You really have got a stunning body", he told me, and
leaned over to kiss me. I turned my head away.

"Oh, come on... I thought you said you liked kissing!"

So I gave him a foretaste of what was to come. I put
one hand behind his head, and thrust my tongue deep
down his throat. At the same time, I grabbed at his
crotch with my other hand, and felt him go erect
through the fabric of his slacks. I basically tongue
fucked him for a couple of minutes, then pulled out,
but I kept my hand firmly on his crotch - I wanted him
to start to feel who was the boss here.

But he didn't understand, or didn't want to
understand, as he started to kiss me again, and was
probing down the back of my Jeans now with his hand -
I could feel one finger sliding down my ass crack from
the top. I guessed the cabby must have been rather
surprised to see two guys going at it like this, but
who cares? I responded by massaging and stroking his
cock, then I stopped, pulled down his zip, and went at
it again from inside his slacks, allowing me to get my
hands on his cock and balls completely. He was
starting to leak precum over my fingers, and so I
pulled them out and presented them under his nose, and
then pushed them roughly into his mouth.

"Suck that", I whispered. Lowering your voice always
seems to put the other guy more at ease, I've found,
and leads them on. He sucked at my fingers greedily,
and I knew I had him - no top really sucks at another
guy like that! He must be putting on some sort of
act. I really don't understand why some bottom guys
do this - there's nothing wrong with being a bottom,
after all - a top needs a good supply of them, and
there's no shame in it. So why do so many guys
pretend to be tops, when so few of them, like me,
truly are?

It's like the way so many guys pretend to be straight.
I've fucked a lot of men who have wives, or say they
have. If my experience is anything to go by, it's
just as well that artificial insemination techniques
are improving all the time: the number of so-called
"straight" guys I've fucked must mean something - once
they've tried proper sex, with a hot cock up them,
they don't want to go with a woman ever again. And I
suppose we do need women to carry on breeding. Still,
if you can get them pregnant with a turkey baster,
that seems a good way to do it to me. Real men only
want to go with other men. And, after all, that's why
an ass hole is so perfectly sized for a cock - it must
mean something, in spite of what those stupid busybody
Christians keep saying about it being wrong. How can
something that two guys do together possibly be wrong?

Well, his flat was pretty nice - one of those
warehouse conversions, that cost a fortune. He was
starting to show his inexperience - asked me if I
wanted a drink as soon as we got through the door,
instead of getting down to the business.

"No, nothing to drink."

He just sort of stood there, looking at me.

"So what shall we do then....?"

Jesus fucking Christ! This guy is supposed to be
atop, and he's asking me what to do!

"I thought you were a top?"

"Yes, but I like the other guy to have fun.."

"Well, I like fucking...."

"Right - come on into the bedroom then." I though
he'd never get around to it!

The bedroom was pretty nice, too - big bed, all
natural sort of fabrics, plain wooden floors, bare
brick walls.

"Why don't you slip out of your clothes, then", he
said to me. Fuck me - why didn't he come and strip
them off, if he was supposed to be in charge?

I dropped my donkey jacket onto the floor, and he
looked admiringly at my upper body and nipple rings.
I'd been sweating In the cab, and my skin and the
rings glinted under the spotlights in the ceiling He
started to take off his shoes and socks, then dropped
his slacks and stood there in his shirt and briefs.

I undid my Jeans, and dropped them. I was now of
course completely naked as I don't wear underwear, and
my cock was rock hard. I saw him looking at me, and
at the shining silver ring around the root of my cock
and balls.

He carried on staring, so I said "What's the matter -
never seen one as big as this before?"

"No - it's that ring.... "

"So - perfectly normal cock ring. I like the feel of
it. I like the way it weighs my cock and balls. And
I like the way it thrusts me up and out all the time."

"Yes, but..."

"But what?"


I think it was at this point that I got bored. I'd
intended to play along a bit more, but this was too
fucking slow, and I wanted action now. So I simply
went over to him, grabbed his wrist and before he
could do anything, I twisted it around and pushed it
high up his back.

He squealed in surprise, and before he could do
anything I pushed him over towards the bed, and forced
him onto it, face down. I threw myself on top of him,
letting go his arm but catching both his wrists now
and holding them in front of his head. I felt his hot
body under mine, and I moved myself a bit so that my
cock was nestling into his ass crack. I leaned
forward and whispered in his ear "So, what now?"

He must have known he was helpless. I'm a heavy guy,
as you know, and with his arms pinioned out in front
of him and my whole body forcing his down into the
bed, he should have realised that he was in my power.
But he didn't give up, I'll say that for him!

"I want to fuck you", he mumbled into the bedclothes.

I twisted my body off his, slapped him really hard on
his ass, and flipped him over onto his back. A quick
twist and I was back on top of him, this time with our
chests pressed close together. Our legs were
intertwined, and my cock was pushing hard against his.
I gasped his wrists again with one hand, and pushed
them above his head.

Thrusting my face down towards his, I whispered "You
want to fuck....?"

"Yes. I want to fuck you."

"You want that hard cock of yours up my ass...?"


I stopped the conversation at this point as I moved my
head down and took his left nipple in my mouth. I
sucked it for a moment, then nipped it with my sharp
teeth - not enough to cause the flesh to break, but
enough to cause him to cry out. His whole body bucked
under mine, and I knew he was experiencing that
peculiar excitement that you get when you really don't
know whether it's pain or pleasure. It's worse
because he knew he was helpless - with his hands above
his head, and my body on top of his, there was no way
he could move. I reached down and nipped him again,
and was rewarded by the feeling of his body again
thrusting upwards into mine as a little scream came
out of him.

I reached down between us with my other hand, and
grasped his rock-hard cock. He was cut, so there
wasn't the excitement of a foreskin to play with - I
do wish parents wouldn't have their kids doctored like
that, as it really does spoil some of the pleasure.
I raked my thumb nail across the head, though,
allowing it to catch in his piss slit, and I felt a
tremor run through him as he lay crushed underneath
me, and a little moan escaped from his lips.

"So you want this fuck tool up my ass?"


This guy had to be a trier, I thought. Didn't he see
that he was totally in my power already? Although he
was fit and muscular, there was just no way he could
compete with me.

"Well, I've got a better idea. I want my cock up your
tight ass."

"No - I don't do that."

I almost laughed. It wasn't a question of what he
did, or did not do. It was really only about what I
wanted, and he couldn't see that Never the less, I
decided to play along, and see what transpired, so I
rolled off him and lay by the side of him.

"Yes, Mark, I'm going to fuck you". He was getting
bolder now. "I'm going to push this cock of mine up
your muscular ass, then ride you like you've never
been ridden before."

He twisted around, pulled open a drawer in the bedside
cabinet and got out a tube of lube. After smearing
some on his fingers, he knelt beside me and reached
down and tentatively tried to push one finger up my
hole. Actually, I don't mind that so much - I like
to see how far a guy will try to go with me. He
pushed, hard, and I felt his finger slide in. I
decided to encourage him, so I moaned quietly.

"Ah, that's a good boy", he crooned quietly. "That's
good, isn't it Mark... You like to feel a man's
fingers up your ass, don't you?"

Still encouraging him, I whispered back, as I'd heard
so many guys before do, "Oh, yes, Jon.... Do that

Actually, it wasn't bad. He'd got two fingers in now,
and my ass was relaxing. He knew what he was doing,
and he'd managed to tickle my prostate so that I had
twitched involuntarily with the pleasure, and I knew
my cock was leaking pre-cum all over his nice clean
bed cover.

He pulled out, and I saw him reach into the cabinet
again. He got out a condom and eagerly tore the foil
open. I could see him sweating and breathing hard,
and he was clearly excited. He massaged the condom
down over his cock, and squirted a bit of lube over it
and rubbed it in.

"You don't have to use that", I murmured.

"NO, Mark. I always use a condom."

That's what I like to hear. I never use condoms
myself, as I like the real sensation of my hot cock
inside a guy's warm, moist ass. You just don't get
the same enjoyment when you have that disgusting
covering over your manhood. I always fuck bareback,
but I am always worried about catching something -
that's why I tend to fuck inexperienced guys, to
reduce the risk. I'd been going to fuck him anyway,
but now I knew that this top always took precautions,
I felt a lot safer - not that that would have stopped
me, actually, as once I'm in full rut I really don't
care - possessing and filling the guy's hole is all
that matters.

"Turn over", he said to me in a low voice. And this
was meant to be a top, remember - there was no note of
command in his voice at all. I'd been lying on my
stomach, so I moved to lie on my back. He was
kneeling beside me, his sheathed cock hovering over my
belly, and he went to move between my legs.

"Jon... Do you do poppers?"

"Oh, sure....". He reached into his drawer again and
got out that oh so familiar little brown bottle.
Opening it, he took a couple of deep snorts, and
passed it to me. I don't need poppers to fuck a guy,
but I actually like that feeling of loss of control,
the flush of heat, the raging of blood to your
head..... So I took a couple of deep snorts and
screwed the stopper back on.

"We lay there just looking at each other, and I knew
he was like I usually was - all primed to fuck,
slightly inflamed from the poppers, and entering into
that very special state of acute sexual ecstasy you
get when you're about to go into action.

He was totally amazed therefore when I sat up, grasped
his shoulders, pushed him back onto the bed, and
reached down and tore the condom off him. He was so
near to cumming, that it only took a couple of jerks
for me to cause him to shoot his load up and over his
belly. I don't mess about when I want to bring a guy
off - I grip his cock really hard, dig my fingers down
into the root of it so that he starts to squirm, then
rasp my hand up and down his shaft really hard.

He started to cry out, but he'd shot his load and I
continued to jerk at him, causing him to start
screaming - he must be one of those guys who is ultra
sensitive after cumming, as I wanted to milk as much
cum as I could from him.

I scraped the cum off his belly onto my hand, then
roughly turned him over onto his face. I quickly
straddled him, and felt his hot sweaty thighs under my
ass, and reached forward and pushed his head down into
the bed, thrusting my strong fingers into his neck
muscles so that he would be in agony if he tried to
resist. With my cum-soaked hand I reached down and
crudely and without caring for him at all started to
lube his hole - I soon had three fingers up, and he
was making moans and tiny screams into the bedclothes.

I sometimes fuck a guy dry, but I think this it's
more pleasure for me to have a hole nicely lubed.
Those lubes you buy dry out too quickly, and I find
that the guy's own cum is much the best lubricant -
that's why nature made us that way, after all. And
it's so much more natural - some guys have to travel
around with condoms and lube, but I'm always ready - a
few quick jerks at the other guy, and I'm ready to go.
It fits into my philosophy of life - no possessions,
no baggage - you need to rely on yourself absolutely.
I'm always ready to fuck an ass that turns me on, as
I just get in there and do it.

As I was doing this, I was wondering how I should fuck
him. I usually take the other guy on his back, as I
like to watch his face as I push my cock up him. But I
thought it might be more humiliating for this top to
be fucked just like an animal.

I stood up briefly, and as he started to move, pulled
him to the edge of the bed so that his body was still
on it but his legs were over the side. I again
reached forward and pushed his head down into the bed
covers, then kicked his legs apart, and stood between
them. Before I thrust my cock into him, I slapped him
really hard two or three times on his ass, so that it
started to glow red: I wanted him to really be primed
to feel my body as it rammed into him in a few

Even though I'd opened him up he was still amazingly
tight, and I had to push hard to get my cock head
through his sphincter - he was squealing away like a
stuck pig, and I was glad the noise was muffled by the
bed covers.

Then I fucked him - first slowly, pushing my cock
gently in and out to its full extent. He relaxed a
lot, and his screams turned into little moans - he was
enjoying this!

Some guys like to go on for a long time like this, but
I don't have all that much patience and anyway my
balls were sending me urgent messages that they wanted
to fire. And before that, I like to really dominate
the other guy by going at him hard - if I just carried
on gently, after all, the other guy wouldn't know who
was really in control!

So I changed my stroke, pulling out quickly and
slamming back hard so that his ass slapped against my
belly. I went on and on, quicker and quicker, as my
lust and passion, fuelled by the poppers, took total
control of my body. I could dimly hear him crying
out, but I didn't care. My own body was consumed with
pleasure, and I revelled in the sensations flooding my
brain - not just the physical ones from my cock, but
the utter feeling of power and domination it gave me
to be so totally in control of this other man.

It was over all too soon - I sometime want these
feelings to last for ever. I felt my balls contract,
and then I was shooting my cum high up inside him. I
gave one or two last thrusts, and almost shouted aloud
myself as my cock responded to the draining of my
balls by sending that exquisite shivering sensation
through me... Almost pain, but almost total pleasure.

I collapsed forward on him, my cock still buried in
his ass, so that my sweat-soaked chest was pushed into
his back. I released the pressure on his neck so he
could raise his head, and he started to mutter "You
bastard. You fucking cunt. You...."

"Shut up!", I snapped at him. "You've just
experienced a real top. So quit whimpering and
complaining, like some mincing queen."

"Look - the deal was that I was going to fuck you..."

"Deal? Don't make me laugh! You don't deal and
negotiate about sex. Real men take what they want,
when they want it. Now stop whining."

"...and you fucked me bareback."


"You bastard - I don't do bareback."

"Well that's the only way I do it. So quit
complaining. Now you know what it's like to take a
real hot cock right up inside you. You've had a real
man have real man sex with you. Some guys actually
want that, you know...!"

I had toned down the note in my voice now so that I
was no longer shouting, just being reasonable. I
wanted to leave Jon on as good terms as possible- I
might want to come back, after all.

"You raped me..."

"Look, Jon. You invited me here. You never asked me
what I wanted. You were happy enough to try to go up
my ass. Now recognise that you weren't man enough
to tackle a real top, the first time you ever had one
here. "

I pulled out of him now, and stood over him, my cock
covered in his ass juices.

"You fucker, you absolute bastard....."

"Shut the fuck up, Jon! I've heard enough. You open
your mouth one more time and I'll use it to clean my

I guess he knew I wasn't joking, because he just lay
there, starting at me, with hate in his eyes.

I strode into the bathroom, and took a leisurely
shower. I've been here before - some guys who get
more than they expected do get upset, but I've never
had one ever take it any further.
I came out, drying myself on one of his big, white,
fluffy towels. He'd pulled on shorts, and was sitting
on the edge of the bead, his head in his hands.

"What' the matter?"

"Look, you fucked me bareback."

"Yes. You should try it sometime. That's the way
real men do it. Condoms are for wimps. Real tops
experience the real thing."

"It's not safe."

"Rubbish. You're clean, I imagine - you told me you
always use a condom when you fuck other guys. Well, I
only fuck clean guys! So you're OK. In any case,
'safe' isn't what it's all about. It's about pleasure
- about domination, about that feeling as a hot, raw
cock fucks a firm, juicy ass. Real men want total
pleasure, and that's bareback."

"You've just got of a bit of a sore ass", I continued,
"And your pride is hurt. But learn from it - see how a
real top operates: none of this 'what would you like
to do' crap - you do what you want."

As I was speaking, I'd pulled on my Jeans, socks and
boots, and picked up my jacket.

It was late and I didn't fancy taking a night bus, and
I hate wasting my money on a taxi.

"You want me to stay the night and fuck you again?", I
asked conversationally.

"No, you bastard. Get out!"

"OK - cool it! But I need a taxi home."

I reached out for his jacket, took out his wallet,
opened it and pulled out a couple of twenty pound

"You won't mind paying for my ride home, then, will
you?", I said cheerily, and left him, still sitting

It was after midnight when I got back to my flat, and
I stripped and just collapsed into bed. I didn't
have to go in the following morning as it was a
Saturday, and one of my landlords woke me with a nice
cup of tea.

"Thanks, mate", I muttered, still half asleep.

"You had a late night, Mark...."

"Yes. And it was a good fuck. Just thinking about it
makes me horny. Call Bob, then both of you get in
here with me - I need a bit more pleasure this


back save

Nifty - Gay - Authoritarian - Top Man